


Raf to the Rescue

by motherbearof3



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 16:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherbearof3/pseuds/motherbearof3
Summary: One-shot. Picks up after Noah's alleged maternal grandmother appears at Olivia's door.





	Raf to the Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> So shhhhh, don't tell my boss, but I wrote this at work today in between real work. 
> 
> My heart literally stopped last night when she called Barba, "Rafa" when they were all in her office and everyone just kept talking like it was nothing. I was going to keep it going, but I got stuck and I wanted to share. If anyone wants to pick it up the baton, please feel free.
> 
> Oh, and btw, Langan is an ass and I now hate Brooke Shields.
> 
> PS I hate my title too but I'm really bad at them

Olivia closed the door of her apartment and leaned against it, trying to control her breathing. Before the woman could even try and talk to her, she’d told her any communication needed to go through her attorney. _How dare Sheila Porter show up at her home! How did she even get in the building? There was no way she was taking Noah away from her!_

“Mommy?” Noah’s voice broke through her thoughts. He was coming down the hall from his room, the Peter Rabbit book they’d been reading clutched against his chest. “Who was at the door?”

She frantically grabbed a folder on the table beside the door and walked rapidly toward him. “Just work stuff, sweetie. Nothing important. Let’s finish our story.”

_What a good liar you are, Liv. Now, can you act like you didn’t just come face to face with the woman who wants to destroy everything you’ve lived for?_

She finished reading Noah the book, hoping he couldn’t feel her heart pounding in her chest, tucked him in with his favorite blanket and kissed him, trying not to hold him longer than usual.

“Good night, my sweet, sweet boy,” she whispered, giving him one more kiss on the top of his head.

“‘Night, Mommy,” he answered sleepily.

Olivia made sure his night light was on, closed his door and slid to the floor against the wall outside his room; her legs no longer able to support her. She started to tremble as she thought about the papers that Langan brought her that morning, hidden away in her briefcase. Noah’s birth mother was wrong. Or she simply lied. Her mother was alive and well and wanted to take him away from her. Pulling her phone from her pocket she opened a new text window with shaking hands.

**Olivia** : Busy?

**Rafael** : Never too busy for you.

That made her smile, but made the lump that had formed in her throat even bigger.

**Rafael** : You there? Is something wrong?

**Olivia** : Only everything.

**Rafael** : I’ll be there in 10.

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her bent knees. She hated being so needy.

That’s where he found her. Still sitting on the floor, head on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs, shaking with rage and despair. He had a key to her apartment as she did to his; for emergencies. Her response had worried him. When she didn’t answer his soft knock, knowing Noah should be in bed, he let himself in.

“Olivia?” he spoke softly, so as not to startle her but also because they were right outside Noah’s bedroom.

She lifted her head and met the gaze of the man who was her best friend and who she had only recently realized had her heart as well, even if she didn’t have his. Looking into her chocolate brown eyes he saw unshed tears. Kneeling beside her, he put a hand on her back. His gentle touch was her undoing. The tears that she had held back all day spilled over and ran down her face. She covered her mouth with her hands to muffle the hysterical sobs she couldn’t control.

Still concerned and puzzled over what caused the woman who was usually so composed to meltdown like this, but not wanting to wake Noah, Barba put an arm under her knees, slid the other more firmly around her waist and stood up, carrying her into the living room. He sat down on the couch with her on his lap and held her close while she cried, smoothing her hair and murmuring quiet words of comfort in both English and Spanish.

Finally, the sobs slowed and she took a deep shuddering breath, lifting her head from his chest. She sniffled, and tried to wipe her eyes.

“Here.” He pressed a handkerchief into her hands. A small hysterical giggle escaped her lips. Leave it to Barba to have a handkerchief even when he was wearing -- sweatpants? Benson wiped her eyes and tried to discreetly blow her nose. Sliding her bottom onto the couch, he stood up and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. As he handed it to her, she was recovered enough to notice said sweatpants hung low on his hips, and the t-shirt he wore was stretched across his chest and shoulders. She looked away and took a long drink of the water.

“Thank you.” She waved her hand. “For this. For coming.”

He sat down again on the couch, and pulled her legs across his. “No thanks are necessary. But an explanation would be appreciated.” He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek and gave her that little half smile. “It’s not every day that I find the imperturbable Lt. Benson having a hysterical crying jag.”

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes and leaned over to pick up her briefcase from where it sat at the end of the couch and removed the packet of papers. Barba recognized them as legal documents and frowned and she handed them to him. Olivia watched his green eyes harden and his frown deepen into a scowl as he read and began shaking his head.

“No,” he said fiercely, tossing them onto the coffee table. “No, Liv. This woman will not take your son from you. Not while I have breath in my body, _querida_.”

Those were the words she needed to hear. Not the “you have databases” crap Langan threw at her this morning, trying to cover his own ass. She threw her arms around Barba’s neck.


End file.
